


Bound

by cardinalrachelieu



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy's a cop, Clarke wants to get kinky, F/M, I think we all know how this ends, Light Bondage, Roleplay, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2029275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalrachelieu/pseuds/cardinalrachelieu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from <a href="http://bellarkewritersnetwork.tumblr.com">BellarkeWritersNetwork</a> on tumblr: Cop!Bellamy arrests Clarke, handcuffs her and puts her in the back of his cruiser. Do with this what you will. (Credit: avarosierthewicked)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvaRosier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier/gifts).



> Hope this lives up to your expectations, dears ;)

“Hands on the car, ma’am.”

She did as she was told, rolling her palms flat onto the cool metal of the hood as he positioned himself behind her.

She’s the one who’d suggested roleplaying, sure, but she hadn’t expected Bellamy to take it so… seriously. He’d brought his cruiser home, donned a full uniform, and maintained an unreadable expression as he carried out the mock arrest.

She had never been more turned on in her entire life.

Bellamy ran his hands up the length of both her legs, pausing to caress the smooth curve of her ass before resuming the pat down of her form. His fingers dipped under the hem of her skirt, dragging up her inner thigh until they all-too-briefly rubbed against her center. Clarke groaned at the touch, muscles shaking as she fought to keep her knees from buckling.

He had told her not to wear anything underneath her clothing. Clarke had obeyed without question and was now grateful for doing so. She let out a soft moan when his thumbs ghosted over her breasts, sending tendrils of heat straight to her core.

“Bell—”

“It’s Officer Blake, ma’am.” He punctuated the correction by gripping her wrists and bringing them behind her back, securing them with the strong grip of his left hand. With his right, he gave her a less-than-gentle push and she fell forward until her chest slammed against the hood of the car. The force of the impact stole the air from her lungs, but his action only served to stoke the fire slowly building inside her.

He ground his hips into her, eliciting a strangled gasp when she felt the hard press of his length against her backside. A faint jingling noise reached her ears, but it was barely able to pierce through the haze of desire clouding her mind. The sensation of cool metal closing around her wrists caused her to shiver, and then a sharp yank returned her upright once more.

Bellamy closed one hand around her bicep and used the other one to push down on the chain connecting the handcuffs, forcing her body to fit against his. His breath was hot on her ear as he barked out the next phrase.

“You’re under arrest.”

He roughly walked her to the backseat passenger door and pushed on the top of her head to tuck her into the vehicle, fingers briefly knotting in her loose curls. Normally there was no padding in the rear of a police cruiser—no comfort or material that criminals could use to harm themselves or others. It seemed, however, that Bellamy had taken the time to cover the bench with a generously padded quilt. (Illusion be damned, she was glad Bellamy had the presence of mind to prevent her knees from being rubbed raw and hurting for days afterward.)

He crowded in after her, making sure to leave the door cracked, and Clarke scooted back until she was flush against the opposite window. A moment later, his fingers were curling into the soft flesh of her hips and lifting her to straddle him.

“Bell—”

“It’s _Officer_ _Blake,_ ” he repeated with a little more force. To emphasize his point, he tangled a hand in her hair and tugged backward sharply, exposing her neck. She took in a ragged breath, sighing as his teeth found her pulse point.

“Officer Blake,” she tried again, eyes still counting the fibers of the fabric that covered the ceiling, painfully aware of the wet stain she was creating on his pristine uniform, “what do you want from me?”

He released his hold on her hair, exchanging it for a vice grip on her jaw as he angled her chin to face his. “For you to ride me until the only name you can remember is mine,” he growled.

Something predatory flashed behind Bellamy’s eyes then, and it made the coil in the pit of her stomach wind tighter. Clarke crashed her mouth into his with bruising force, fighting against her restraints to touch him.

Bellamy’s hands went to her blouse, ripping it open in one quick motion. Tearing his mouth from hers, his lips found the smooth skin of her neck as his palms massaged her breasts.

Her vision was starting to blur and it was all she could do to whimper, “Pants.”

He shifted under her, hands working to undo the standard issue belt and trousers. Bellamy shoved the material down his thighs an unacceptable amount of time later, gripping Clarke’s waist tightly as she lowered herself onto him. His head relaxed into the hard material of the seatback, a low groan rumbling through his chest as his eyes slid closed.

Seeing the reaction, a sly smirk crept across Clarke’s features. “Something wrong… _Officer_?”

“Yeah,” he rasped. “You’re not movi—”

Clarke rolled her hips, barely noticing that the rest of the word had caught in his throat because of the bolt of pleasure that shot up her spine. Bellamy’s right hand flew to her waist, steadying her, while his other dropped to the apex of her thighs, thumb pressing against the bundle of nerves there.

A muffled cry was buried into the skin of his shoulder as Clarke struggled against the metal restraints again, aching to brace her hands against his chest and pull him closer.

A few more well-timed thrusts sent her over the edge and she was convulsing around him, walls clenching in time to her heartbeat. Before her breathing had returned to normal, Bellamy’s hands gently began rocking her hips, guiding them back and forth.

Clarke sunk her teeth into her lower lip, lifting her forehead from its place in the crook of Bellamy’s neck so that she could press her mouth to his. Strength and mental faculties returning to her, Clarke took control of her movements, grinding into Bellamy’s lap— _hard_.

His fingertips marked angry red lines into the cream colored flesh between her shoulder blades, slowly dropping to grip the fullest part of her ass. Breaking the contact between their lips, Bellamy dipped his chin to nip at the underside of her jaw.

A high-pitched keening noise got trapped in Clarke’s throat, and a second later she was being flipped so Bellamy was on top of her. He snapped his hips against her, and Clarke was only peripherally aware of the way her wrists were starting to ache from being pinned behind her as the waves of her second orgasm crashed over her, his name tumbling from her lips.

His breathing grew labored as he quickened his pace, driving into her again and again before finally releasing a moan and slumping against her.

Pulling back, he planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m gonna let you go with a warning,” he mumbled into the sweat slicked skin.

Clarke dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Thanks, Officer,” she managed between breaths.

“Don’t mention it,” he winked, coaxing her to sit up so he could unlock the handcuffs binding her arms.

Once free, she snaked her hands around his neck and rolled on top of him, kicking the door to the cruiser open with her feet so both of them could hang their legs out the side. Bellamy adjusted himself so Clarke could lay flat against his chest, her cheek pressed into the space just above his heart.

“Next time,” she started, swallowing thickly, “I get to tie _you_ up.”

“Looking forward to it, princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews give me life, so don't be shy :)


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